Nothing had ever tasted as sweet as that dragon heart.
For about ten seconds.
Then it seemed as if the sky folded in on me, scales replacing clouds to billow with drawn breaths. Dragons left their fights to come for me. My enemies had decided that they had enough of this game. They were going for the most important piece of the board. Finish it in one strike.
Damn, why hadn't I considered that? I suppose I had made the same mistake that they had—arrogance.
The blows landed and there was nothing I could do. I was cut and bit so many times, so rapidly, that the pain didn't register at first. Then it was so overwhelming that I couldn't cry out. To go from a win in sight to this was crushing. More crushing than the weight of the thirty or so dragons that held me down. I couldn't see anything but scales, horns, and teeth. And blood. My blood.
But all I could think about was Aras.
He was up there, on that wall, watching me die. Great Gods, let his guards do their work and get him the fuck away from there. Please, let him be safe. Let him—
An echoing roar sent chills down my spine. I knew the sound, and it shouldn't have been so close. Where were his guards? How had Aras gotten off that damn wall? No!
The dragons around me shuddered, a few drawing back. One said, “Smell that? That's his mate.”
Another snarled, “Kill him too. You'll be doing them both a kindness.”
I flailed, my dragon gone mad with the threat to our mate. The dome of dragons undulated with my fury but held on. Warriors all, they had their claws in me. Their teeth. Even the barbs of their tails were embedded in me, every part of them put to the task of conquering their king. Of regicide.
I would die while they murdered my mate, and there was nothing I could do about it.
But then the pile of dragons was thrown aside. All of them gone in a heartbeat. I uncurled myself and stared up at a clear sky. A circle of about fifty feet was cleared and widening. Dragons were reeling back in the air. And those who'd been attacking me were lying around me like broken toys. But that was all seen in a glance from the corner of my eye. Because I couldn't look away from Aras.
He was floating. Fucking floating. My mate hovered in the air about twenty feet above me. His hair and fur whipped about in an unnatural breeze, his legs were braced apart as if he stood on the deck of the Tiger's Claw, and his arms were extended even wider. Magic spun around him. But the only magic my mate had was Earth. And Earth couldn't make him fly. So how the fuck was he doing whatever the fuck he was doing?
Then Aras shifted his ice-blue stare down to me. It was full of rage but also power. It was the power that made the resemblance uncanny.
Just as the thought occurred to me, Risarren appeared beside my mate and declared, “It's true! You're him. You're my son!”
I couldn't move, so enraptured was I by this drama unfolding.
Aras blinked and looked at Risarren. “What?” His arms lowered and he looked around himself in shock. “How am I doing this?” He instantly began to fall.
“Aras!” I shot to my feet and made to leap after him.
It was unnecessary. Risarren reached out, and Aras flew into his arms.
“I've got you, Son. I finally have you. Your mother tried to take you from me, but I knew I'd find you one day. Now that I have, we will show Serai what true power is.”
Aras looked from Risarren to me. I had paused again, my haunches bunched for take-off. It wasn't shock that held me back. Something unseen strapped me to the ground.
“Aras!” I shouted. “I can't move! His spirits are holding me.”
“Lyrandir!” Aras called to me and tried to push himself free of his father's arms.
“I'm your father. Didn't you hear me?” Risarren frowned. “You've inherited my sorcery. I can show you how to use it.”
“Then show me now!” Aras snarled. “I need to help my mate win this war.”
As if the word war had reminded everyone what we were there for, dragons suddenly dove from the sky, heading for me again. I lost sight of my mate and growls drowned out his next words. Once more, I was caught at the bottom of a pile of ruthless dragons.
And then I heard my mate shout, “Lyrandir!”
Aras's fear shot into my heart and then through my body, turning molten. He called for me again, his voice fainter, and I knew he was being taken from me. My body, still recovering from the last attack, trembled as it tried to heal and get to my mate. Then the bond between Aras and I went silent. He wasn't dead, but he wasn't feeling anything either. He'd been knocked unconscious. That bastard sorcerer was taking my mate!
I shouldn't have been able to fight free of that dragon pile. That had just been proven. All those rapid strikes were enough to keep me down, too weak to even call upon my magic. But feeling my mating magic go dark was enough to send my dragon into a panic. I fought more savagely than before, summoning every ounce of strength in me. And this time, it was enough.
